BFFL

Starting a new school is never easy, but it’s even worse when it’s April and everybody else is already settled into the school and has made friends. Of course, I didn’t have a choice. Mom said we were moving, so we moved. Again. I had started new schools before, but this time I was in high school and had been with my old friends for a few years now. I had even made the softball team at my last school. I loved playing third base; hearing the pop as a well-thrown ball landed in the mitt of the first baseman. Now it was too late for tryouts so I’d have to sit out the whole season. It just wasn’t fair. 

I was glad we lived close enough to the school so I could walk. At least I didn’t have to humiliate myself by riding the bus. I was too young to have my driver’s license, but it didn’t matter because neither me nor mom could have afforded a second car.  It looked like I’d be doing a lot of walking in the coming years.

I tried not to make eye contact as I shuffled down the cracked and uneven sidewalk. I shifted my backpack to my other shoulder, slowly following the flow of students moving into the old brick building. I uneasily waited my turn to go through a small metal detector set up by the front doors. They didn’t have anything like that at my last school so it made me a little nervous. Passing through without incident I glanced at the signs as I went through the second set of doors and followed the arrows to the Principal’s office. 

“Hello, dear. How can I help you?”

I sighed softly to myself. It was the same at every school. Some matronly woman behind the desk calling me dear or sweetie or sugar. The further south I got the more calories the name seemed to hold. 

“I’m Paige Newton. My mom registered me for school last week but I didn’t get my class assignment.”

The lady smiled as she shuffled some papers on her desk and then punched something into her computer. A few seconds later an old printer at the back of the room spit out my schedule. 

“Here you go, dear. Freshman Homeroom 4 is just down the hall to the right. Mr. Moore will assign you your locker and help you with any questions you might have. Have a good first day.”

I grunted a thank you as I made my way back into the crowded hallway. The smell of obsolete chalk seemed to be in every pore of the old building. I don’t think anybody even noticed I was around. Well, at least it was better to be lost in a crowd of faces than to be the one that stood out to everyone. I didn’t like attention.

I spotted my homeroom and went inside. Mr. Moore wasn’t there yet so I glanced around the room. A few people stared at me now. My stomach did a couple of flips, mild panic setting in as I tried to figure out which desk to take. Just then another girl came into the room.  

“Hi! You must be Paige, right? My name is Hana. I volunteered to show you to your classes today and make sure you were settled in.”

Hana wasn’t the type of girl I would normally choose to hang around with. I always played sports and hung out with the jocks at my last school. I wasn’t exactly popular, but the popular kids knew who I was. I always stayed in their shadows. Hana, however, was far from athletic looking. She was short, overweight, had purple hair, and had a heavy backpack she was lugging around. A couple of the kids had said hi to her as she came into the room, but not the kind of response the “in-crowd” would get. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Hi, Hana. Thank you.”

We settled into two desks at the back of the room and Hana gave me all of the good information about the school: who was dating whom, which bathrooms to avoid, and which teachers were the easiest graders.  I found out that Hana had never played any organized sports and hated gym class. I told her that I was a “C” student, even after studying my hardest. I liked rock, she liked opera; I liked pink, she liked black; I liked to dance, she liked to sing. We laughed about her being the yin to my yang. 

Before I knew it, homeroom was over and we were on our way to our first hour class. Hana led the way by pushing through the crowd, and helped me locate my locker. It was easy to spot because it had a huge dent in it and a peeling, black spray paint blotch covering what was probably an obscene word from yesteryear. After several attempts we finally got the combination correct, only to realize that I didn’t have any books to drop off yet. Giggling like life-long friends she helped me find my first hour. 

As promised, Hana was there waiting after both first and second hours, escorting me to my class and introducing me to the teacher.

After third hour Hana was again waiting outside the classroom door, ready to show me the cafeteria. This school was much bigger than my last school so I was glad for the company. After multiple turns down long hallways we finally reached the cafegymatorium. It was huge! I guess it had to be since it was a multi-purpose room, but I had never seen a school with such a big place for lunch. 

We snaked our way through the various food stations, trying to figure out what looked the most edible. I grabbed a small chef salad, milk, and a side of grapes that looked pretty safe. Hana guided us to a table that was relatively clean and not too packed with other students. 

A couple of the other girls introduced themselves. Soon we were laughing about the combover my second hour teacher wore with pride when HE walked past. “That’s Michael Oates,” whispered Hana. “He’s a senior and is going to the state university next year. He’s pretty hot, isn’t he?” I just sat there staring at him a few seconds before trying to answer her. That was when I realized I couldn’t breathe at all. I had gotten one of the grapes jammed in my throat. Because of all of the noise in the cafeteria and because she was still looking at Michael, Hana didn’t realize at first that I was grabbing at her because I was in trouble. When she finally realized what was happening, I was already seeing stars.

Hana jumped up from her chair, knocked it backwards into the guy behind her, grabbed me around my middle, and started to squeeze. After three compressions, out popped a grape, rolling over to the feet of Michael Oates himself. For a girl who didn’t like attention I sure was getting a lot of it on my first day at school.

“Cool. How did you know what to do?” asked some kid from the crowd.

Hana just shrugged and replied that she had learned the Heimlich maneuver in a babysitting class.

That was how it started. We were best friends by way of an unchewed grape. Where you saw one of us, you generally saw both of us. Some people called us the Odd Couple, but we didn’t care. 

The next year I made the basketball, track, and softball teams and Hana was always there cheering me on. It turned out that Hana was one of the lead singers in the school’s choir and I was at all of her concerts and singing competitions. 

In tenth grade Hana had to have brain surgery and I was there every day visiting her, bringing her the missed homework. She could have taken the time off school, but not Hana. She’s the only kid I personally know who started taking college dual enrollment classes when she was a freshman. 

Hana’s mom explained that she had a rare disease called Chiari Malformation of the brain. It basically meant her brain was too big for her head and was being pulled down into her spinal column. During the brain surgery they removed a small tumor and shaved down the base of her skull so her brain would have more room. She had horrible migraines after that, sometimes forcing her to stay in a dark room for the entire day. Those were one of the few times we didn’t spend our days together.

The other times were when I was on a date. Hana was there to dry my tears when my first boyfriend broke up with me to be with Kassandra Wilson. She was also there to celebrate with me when Luke St. Johns, captain of the football team, asked me to prom our Junior year. 

For Spring Break our Senior year Hana and I did community service. I wanted to go to Costa Rica to help build houses and Hana wanted to go to Baja, California, to clean beaches. So, we compromised and went to Jamaica to help kids with their school work. We couldn’t have asked for a better time. 

Before we knew it, we were in the final steps of high school.  Seniors! Hana and I both would be attending the university in the next town. Hana had an academic scholarship. I got one for softball. We had our prom dresses all picked out, plans to study for our finals together, and were debating if we were going to go to the Senior All-Night Party. 

Then, early one morning I got a phone call. It was Hana’s mom.

Now, almost exactly three years after meeting Hana, I had to say goodbye to my best friend. I stood looking at the landscape around me, unable to look into the big dark hole a few feet in front of me, not believing I’d never see her again. I’d never hear her corny jokes again or listen to that beautiful alto voice mastering another Italian operetta.

I would never forget the purple-haired angel who showed me kindness and saved my life on that first day. The yin to my yang had an unfairly short life, but she dedicated it to bettering the lives of everyone she met. Her beautiful personality would forever live on in the hearts of all of those she met. Her disease may have won the battle, but Hana won the war.